


Living Dangerously

by ryukoishida



Series: Insomniacs' Wanderlust [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryukoishida/pseuds/ryukoishida
Summary: “You look on edge,” Gladiolus comments as he steps out from the bathroom, steam from the hot shower still trailing behind him like some ominous fog.Prompt: Gladio giving a stressed out Ignis a back massage.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first FFXV fic let’s do this!

“You look on edge,” Gladiolus comments as he steps out from the bathroom, steam from the hot shower still trailing behind him like some ominous fog.

 

He pads over to where the strategist is standing by the window, his bare feet hardly making any sound at all on the hardwood flooring of Leville Hotel.

 

From the reflection on the glass, Ignis can see the taller man approaching him, the tips of his glistening hair still dripping water that darkens the material of his t-shirt. His gaze shifts to focus on the dimmed orange lights of the back alley outside the window.

 

“They’ve been gone for a while,” Ignis replies, his inflection betraying nothing as he crosses his arms almost as if he’s defending himself against an invisible being.

 

“Lighten up, Iggy,” Gladiolus slaps him on his back lightly, “Noct and Prompto can take care of themselves. Besides, there’s no need to worry about them being attacked by daemons or wild beasts in the city, is there?” He wraps his arm around Ignis’ shoulders and almost drags the man with slighter build towards the bed, where he proceeds to guide him to sit on the edge before climbing to settle behind the confused strategist.

 

“Gladio, what in heavens are you doing?” Ignis is about to turn around and send him a warning glare, but Gladiolus simply places a small, brief kiss on his cheek, which effectively shuts Ignis up and makes the man duck his head, his cheeks tainted a light pink.

 

“Helping you relax,” he replies with a bright grin, and begins to place his hands on Ignis’ slender shoulders, the elegant lines of them barely hidden by the thin material of his fitted t-shirt. “At this rate, your hair will turn prematurely grey before you hit 40.”

 

“I’m content just to be able to survive that long,” Ignis says, a small, sardonic smile dancing faintly along his lips.

 

Something flashes within Gladiolus’ amber eyes then, and it looks like he’s about to speak, but his mouth snaps shut into a pursed line. Instead, he starts to push into the knots of muscles along Ignis’ upper back with firm and even pressure, talented and practiced fingers moving in circular motions until he feels Ignis melts under his touch.

 

Ignis doesn’t know when his eyes have slipped close or when the room has become so quiet – his mind just conscious enough so that he’s aware of Gladiolus’ warm fingers kneading into the pressure points on his back that makes his exhales stutter, the blood beneath his skin thrums just a bit harder. The tender ache he doesn’t even know he has radiates from where Gladiolus has touched him and disperses into pinpricks of softer stars of heat.

 

“Ignis…”

 

It’s rare these days when Gladiolus calls him by his given name, and rarer still is his use of such a formal, somber tone when they’re alone together. His hands continue their ministrations on Ignis’ back, however, so he tries not to let the tension that has dissipated temporarily to crawl back into his veins.

 

“Yes?”  

 

Gladiolus’ gaze is fixed on the nape of the other man’s neck, the strands of fine hair that still smells of hotel shampoo tempting him to drag his fingers through the soft locks, but he bites his lower lip until it almost draws blood before the words will come.  

 

He starts, a trace of uncertainty colouring his tone; he may be crossing a line here, but it has never stopped him from saying what needs to be said before, “I understand that it’s your duty as the royal family’s advisor to always remain by Noctis’ side and provide aide; I, as well, must act as the prince’s shield, and there’s nothing I’m more proud of than to accompany him on his journey until he becomes king. But we can’t always be there to watch over him or rescue him or give him advice; we’ll have to let him go on his own eventually, and one day, he won’t need us anymore.”

 

“I know,” Ignis opens his eyes slowly, and folds his legs onto the bed so he can turn around to sit cross-legged facing Gladiolus.

 

There’s a hint of melancholy in those quiet, green eyes, but Gladiolus doesn’t comment on it, merely laces his fingers loosely with Ignis’, and in turn he gives him a small, thankful smile. “But for now, while I’m still living and able, I’d like to do my part to help the prince. It’s in my nature to worry and fuss, it seems.”

 

“Despite how much Noct complains about that particular side of you, that kid respects you a whole lot,” Gladiolus tells him earnestly, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of Ignis’ hand.

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

There’s a beat of silence – a gentle wave of peace that settles over both of their hearts.

 

“Thank you, Gladio.”

 

He doesn’t specify, but Gladiolus doesn’t need him to.


End file.
